Perhaps that is the real difference between him and me. Not the materials we are made of. But whether we learn from our mistakes. Or fail even to recognize them as mistakes, and think of them instead as what we hold most dear.

And even as my mind is processing that thought, another is creeping in beside it. Something she thought, during that long bus ride north.

   With barely a ripple, you could kill her and slip into the life she’s made…

I look over at where Tim is weeping, and think how easy it would be.

And I remember another thought of hers as well, that night she believed she’d discovered Abbie wasn’t dead after all.

If she’s alive, then what are you? A copy. A doppelgänger. A thing without a name.

I tuck the thought away somewhere deep—hard and small and precious, like a seed or a secret—to be brought out and examined at some later date.

Then I go upstairs and unwrap another Abbie for Tim, to console him. Another blank slate on which to rewrite the same old story.

         Methods and systems for robot and user interaction are provided to generate a personality for the robot. The robot may be programmed to take on the personality of real-world people (e.g….a deceased loved one or celebrity)…

 —US PATENT NO. 8996429,

 Methods and Systems for Robot Personality Development,

 granted to Google Inc. in 2015

 “I want a life,” the computer said. “I want to get out there and garden and hold hands with Martine. I want to watch the sunset and eat at a nice restaurant or even a home-cooked meal. I am so sad sometimes, because I’m just stuffed with these memories, these sort of half-formed memories, and they aren’t enough. I just want to cry.”

 —BINA48,

 interviewed by NYmag